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Our tiny crowd makes the noise of one ten times its size as Roisin puts her ring on my finger. There is nothing I want more in this world than to reach down and kiss the love of my life.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
So, that’s exactly what I do.
Epilogue
Roisin
The presidential suite at the Beverly Hills Hotel is nothing short of a masterpiece. Food to die for. Dreamy views over the sunny city. Decor that would probably cost quadruple my entire earned salary, from the fancy soaps to the softest of bed linens.
The L.A. portion of our honeymoon has already gotten off to a great start. Not only was I able to catch up with a few friends and celebrate our marriage with some of my favorite people, but Arnie has never left my side once.
He dotes on me everywhere we go, buying everything I show even the slightest bit of interest in. He charms my friends with his wit and dry humor. Lets me guide him through the city to all my favorite places.
It’s bittersweet coming back here. Although I’ve not really found a permanent home in New York yet, L.A. no longer feels like home, either. It’s amazing how much has changed here in such a short amount of time. New shop fronts, new menus.
Arnie lets me babble on endlessly about all my misadventures from when I was still in school, pointing out hundreds of locations that he probably will never remember. But he humors me anyway, squeezing my hand and asking me all the right questions.
“I just want to figure out how that brain of yours works,” he tells me one evening over dinner.
Tonight, we’ve opted to eat in. A personal chef brought our four-course meal straight up to our room. We sit out on the balcony, surrounded by candles and the soundtrack of the city.
“I feel like you’re teasing me,” I narrow my eyes at my husband across the table. “No one really wants to know where someone’s old orthodontist was.”
“I do,” he replies earnestly.
But I see right through him. “Liar.”
“It makes you happy when you share these things with me,” he deflects. “And when you’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Yes, but you’re not interested in what I’m saying, are you?” I counter, trying to pin down an answer from him.
“Do you want me to be interested?” Arnie’s eyes flash with mischief. “Do you want me to have a weird obsession with the orthodontist population in L.A.?”
“Ha!” I point at him triumphantly. “You just said it was weird.”
Arnie pats his face with his napkin before placing it down on the table. His moves are calculated and deliberate.
“Roisin,” he says seriously. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
I try to retain my composure. “Because I’m right?”
“Because I’ve been thinking about ripping that dress off you all night. And as tantalizing as our conversation is, it no longer serves as a distraction.”
I smirk. “Do you like it when I argue with you?”
“I like to win,” he flirts back.
“I don’t think that’s true,” I tilt my head, examining him thoroughly. His pristine shirt is tight in just all the right places. His tie hangs loosely around his neck. His dark eyes and windswept hair. Delicious. “I think you like to be dominated.”
The swallow is his only tell that my words hit home. So I stand, walking over to him with a sway in my hips.
He reaches for me automatically as I straddle his lap.
“Is that so?” he purrs as he runs his hands through my hair.
I can already feel him hardening beneath me. It fills me with power that my body can draw such a response from him.
